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“That’s okay,” said Armpit.
“Go on, you won’t break it.”
Armpit took the bat, made sure he had room, then took a half swing. He felt silly.
“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?” said Jerome Paisley. “You could hit a lot of home runs with that baby.”
Armpit didn’t know all that much about baseball, but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t the bat that hit the home runs, but the person who swung it.
“You know, I used to play pro ball,” Kaira’s manager told him. “Just one season in the big leagues before an injury ended my career.”
One season was an exaggeration. Jerome Paisley played in the major leagues for just eighteen days in September, when teams are allowed to expand their rosters. The so-called injury was more mental than physical. After having been hit in the face by a pitch, he couldn’t swing a bat without closing his eyes.
Armpit set the bat down.
“But it all worked out in the end, didn’t it? Look at me now. Making more money than most ballplayers. And how long does a ballplayer’s career last? Ten years if he’s lucky. I’m a lot better off than they are, am I not?”
It took a second before Armpit realized that Jerome Paisley was expecting an answer. “Yes, sir, you’re doing great,” he said. “Look, I got to go. I’m supposed to meet Kaira downstairs.”
“Hey, have fun. Don’t mean to hold you up.”
“Thanks. Thanks for showing me the bat.” He backed out of the suite, then hurried down the hall.
Well, that was weird, he thought as he rode the elevator down to the lobby.
Kaira was waiting just outside the elevator. “It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting,” she said. She was all in flannel and denim, like a lumberjack.
Fred was standing a few steps away from her, but this time Armpit didn’t let that stop him. He went right to Kaira, grabbed her, and kissed her on the lips.
She returned the kiss, letting it linger for several seconds. Then they smiled at each other.
“I guess it was worth the wait,” she whispered.
30
“You’re going to freeze. I can’t believe you didn’t bring a jacket!” She held both his hands.
“It’s summer. It’s like a hundred degrees in Texas.”
“You’re not in Texas. You’re here, with me.”
“Well, you’re pretty hot too,” said Armpit.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Come on, we’ll get you a sweatshirt or something at the gift shop.”
She let go of one of his hands but still held the other as she led him into the boutique.
He began looking through the sweatshirts, trying to find one that wasn’t too cutesy, but Kaira went straight to a charcoal gray wool jacket hanging on display.
“You’d look great in this!”
It was pretty sharp. Armpit felt the fabric, which was as soft as Kaira’s flannel shirt. He was about to try it on when he saw the price. Nine hundred and ninety-five dollars.
He returned to the sweatshirts even though Kaira told him not to worry about the price. “You just charge it to your room. The tour will pay for it.”
Armpit picked out a hooded red sweatshirt that said SAN FRANCISCO on it and had a picture of a cable car. It cost a hundred and twenty dollars, but that seemed like a bargain compared to the jacket. He charged it to his room.
Kaira called him Little Red Riding Hood when he put the hood up, so he put it back down. “You want to take a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge?” she asked.
